New Lives
by thegirlwhoflew
Summary: Emily forms a bond with a depressed yet strong teenager and changes both their lives. Strong language and themes.
1. Chapter 1

OC POV

"Hi Rachel, I'm Agent Morgan, this is Agent Prentiss. We're from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. Can we ask you a few questions?" The very attractive black man was polite, but official. He stood slightly in front of the woman, protectively.

"What about?" I tug on the sleeves of my shirt, stretching them down to cover my palms.

"Your father," Agent Prentiss said softly. Her long raven hair fell in gentle curls, framing her pale face that had magnificent, big brown eyes. Soft pink lips were set in a serious line, but she had laugh lines beside her worry wrinkles.

"What do you want to know? Didn't you get him? I mean, aren't you sending him to jail?"

"We are actually doing follow up. We want to know everything in his daily life. It's research for the government and it would be much appreciated if you could answer some questions," Agent Morgan said, once again polite but overly official.

"Sure," I say, not really giving a damn at this point. After all, I am stuck in a "temporary care" facility where I will probably stay until I'm eighteen. Then I thought about it, "Actually, can I just talk to you," I say, nodding to Prentiss.

"Of course," she says, not fazed at all by my request. Morgan leaves us alone in my room at the facility, and Prentiss begins. "What can you tell me about his regular day that you knew about?"

"He'd wake up, go to work at nine, come home at five, get drunk, sometimes leave, sometimes stay. When he left, I assume he went to go get those girls, but that was mostly recent," I say calmly, smoothing my words with disinterest.

"What about when he stayed?" Prentiss looked at me with knowing eyes, and I looked away, hating having to tell the truth. I shrugged, trying to get her to back off, but it only encouraged her. "It's okay, he isn't here now," she said softly, leaning towards me.

"He would get pretty wasted, beat and rape me, and fall asleep. Happy now?" I spat at her. Her sad eyes told me she was not. Prentiss took a deep breath in and held it for ten seconds.

"Lately he had been going out though. How long would he stay away?"

"About three, four hours, I guess. He always came home and fell asleep. I thought it was good he was spending time away. Little did I know," I say with a bitter laugh. Prentiss looked sadly at me, and once more I grabbed my sleeves and pulled them to my fingertips. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What's on your arm?" Prentiss asked.

"Nothing," I say coldly. She let it go for the moment. Then she preceded with more uncomfortable questions about my evil, son of a bitch father.

Emily POV

"Hey princess, don't cry," Derek said and wrapped his arms around my waist. I buried my face into his neck and inhaled. He smelt like detergent, sweat, and my shower gel.

"She was so torn, so de-humanized. Damn, she couldn't make eye contact or stand to be touched. And she was hiding her arms. I think she might cut, or do smack, or maybe there are really bad bruises," I raggedly said, my heart hurting just thinking about her. Derek held on tighter and one hand stroked my hair softly. "Love you," I tell him.

"I love you too. Its okay, baby. Come on, let's lie down. I know it broke your heart to see her and hear her, just know that we will make sure she gets the best possible care," Derek said to me, walking me to the edge of the bed and letting me curl into a ball. He curls himself around me, shielding me from the world, and kisses my forehead. I turn up to face him and gently press my lips to his. It was a kiss that showed that he was there, and I was with him. Together, we restlessly fell asleep.

"Oh no, Derek, not when I talk to Hotch," I say and answer my phone. I keep my eyes on the road in front of me as he informs me about what to do next. Derek and I were left behind yesterday to wrap up the town while the rest of the crew went to the state prison to interrogate our prisoner. Derek was teasing my thigh with his finger, drawing patterns over my skin. The skirt I wore today went to my knees, but rose quite a bit when I sat down. Derek enjoyed this. Trying to keep my composure on the phone, I told Hotch everything about the interview yesterday. He directed me to make sure Rachel was in a good place, had options, etc… When he finally hung up, I glared at Derek. "Really? I could barely breathe that whole time on the phone." He smiled and pulled his hand away. I turned back to the road frowning, wishing he would replace it.

"What now?"

"We call the place Rachel's in and make sure everything's alright. Then we grab any leftover reports and head back," I say. He replaces his hand, pressing his whole palm on top my thigh. He begins to slide it in farther, and I place both hands on the wheel.

"You're tense," he mutters in my ear, right before sucking my collarbone. I gasp when he hits my pulse point.

"And you think that while I'm driving is a good place to release it?" I say, trying desperately to be angry but not quite managing as I feel his hand move in circles on my leg.

"Hmmm… Yes, I do," he says against my warm skin. He unbuttons my shirt and smiles when he realizes it's a front clasp bra.

"Derek! What if someone sees," I object before realizing we were on a small county road with no cars around. Derek responds with pushing my bra through my shirt sleeves and off.

- "Feel better?"

"Yes, I…I guess I did need that," I admit, still gasping, and he smiles at me, love plastered against his face. We kiss softly, with underlying tones of passion pushing up. "Love you."

"Love you too. C'mon, let's get work done now."

A few months later:

Rachel's POV

"Yes, yes, I understand. I'm a FBI agent, I understand what happened. I have had a previous encounter with her, along with some personal things to discuss. _Now let me in_," the familiar voice demanded. Emily Prentiss pushed her way into my hospital room and stops still. I look like shit. "Hey, do you remember me?"

"Yeah, why are you here?"

"I heard about what happened. I came down to make sure nothing happens ever again," she said, anger flying through her eyes. It's been a year. Foster care is a bitch. Suicide is bliss. Unless you manage to fuck it up like me.

"There's not a ton you can do," I bleakly manage. Emily's eyes wander down the length of my arms where two prominent lines outdo the many others. She closes her eyes briefly, and when they open again I see grief and hurt and pain. It strikes me that I don't like making this woman upset. I barely know her, yet she seems to care for me, even after a year.

"You're coming to DC with me. Don't object. It won't do any good," she says, looking me straight in the eyes. The vibe off her tells me she isn't bullshitting me and I nod. I don't know what to think. I'm happy someone has decided to take me in that legitimately gives a shit, but do I want to fuck with this kind person's life?

"When?"

"Tomorrow. You'll be released in the morning. I hope you're okay with this," she says softly, moving to sit beside me. Her eyes search mine and find no guarded objections. I don't want to ruin her life with my bullshit, but I want out.

"Alright. Everything I own is in that bag already," I say, nodding towards the book bag in the corner. My laptop, my phone, my clothes, my books and my valuables are all able to fit into it. My skateboard sits beside it. It's sad how little I possess.

"Hey," Emily says, noticing my bitter attitude, "You're going to be okay. Maybe not now, but eventually. I promise. Just let me take care of it right now," she tells me, leaning into my space. I get the sense she understands how hard it is to let anyone help me.

"Okay, just get me out of this fucking hospital," I say dryly. Emily's smile blossoms across her face, lighting up the room and me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, thank you for the reviews and follows. Please continue. Criminal Minds does not belong to me, sadly. **

**Emily POV**

"Shit, this is where you live?"

"Yeah, this is the apartment I keep, even though I basically live at Derek's. I set up your room right down here," I say and lead her to the room. "When you're comfortable, we'll probably move into a house, but for now…" I watch her face as she longingly stares at the room I quickly made up.

"Is it really mine," she asks, breathing the words.

"Yes, but like I said, when we move you can do whatever you want to your bedroom, but for now I figured it would be okay," I told her. The bedroom was relatively simple; big king bed with white covers, light purple walls, white dresser and a white desk. Some random art I got from the Eastern Market one weekend and Christmas tree lights going around the ceiling's borders.

"It's perfect," Rachel says softly.

"Good," I say, rest my hand on her back. It's the first time she hasn't tensed up when I've touched her. Taking her book bag off my shoulders, I place it in the desk chair and unzip it.

"Hey, don't do that!"

"Sorry, I was just trying to help," I say, pretending to be surprised. I knew she would protect it, and it only intrigued me farther to know what was in it.

"Sorry, sorry, just, I don't know," she mutters, head down. Her hands twitch nervously against the pockets of her jeans and it inspires me to go over to her.

"Hey, don't worry, it's not a big deal," I whisper and pull her head up with my fingers. Her eyes meet mine and are filled with fear and anger and hopelessness. "Listen, Rachel," I say and pull her to sit on the side of the bed with me, "There will be times I'm upset with you, but I promise to never, ever, hurt you, okay? We're going to have to teach each other here. When I'm out of line or doing something stupid, please tell me. And you can count on me to do the same."

Rachel nods, her face losing a touch of its determined hardness. She leans against me for the briefest of seconds, and then goes to her bag and finishes unzipping it. About three shirts, two pairs of jeans, some underwear and a hat are the only clothes in there. After that is retrieved, her laptop is pulled out and gingerly placed onto the desk. Next, the books come, about a dozen of them pulled from the bottom of the bag. That's why it was damn heavy to carry. Finally, out of the front pockets, come two little decorative boxes. They jingle when they come out, but Rachel doesn't open them, just places them in a desk drawer.

"Thank you," she whispers. It breaks my heart to hear that, her voice sad and determined and grateful. Why am I the only one who cares about her?

"Let's get some dinner," I suggest, smiling warmly at her. She nods and follows me out.

**Rachel's POV**

It was the photographs of the dead girls, the ones he killed, as he leers at me. I'm in my bed, my heart pounding and my body shaking. He starts to crawl on the bed, begins pulling off my pajamas. Slowly, he sheds his pants and comes for me. I turn and close my eyes as he settles on top me and…

"Rachel! Wake up, wake up, c'mon," a voice makes its way into my head. My eyes flutter open to see not my father, but Emily holding me tight. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I mutter into the cotton shirt she wore. I feel tears plastered to my face, and I'm still trembling. Emily rubs my back and holds my head into the nape of her neck, murmuring soft words to me. After a while, I finally stop, and pull away from Emily, embarrassed.

"Honey, its okay, there's nothing wrong with having a bad dream," she tells me, reading my mind. Slowly, I move back over to her, the warmth of her body comforting and safe. She lets me with no objections, only going back to holding me securely.

"I must've been loud," I say as Emily starts making breakfast.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I've had nightmares too."

"About what?" I ask, intrigued. Then I realize how incredibly rude that is, "Sorry, you don't have to tell me." Emily smiles at me, softly, like she thinks it's funny how I took it back, but doesn't want to hurt my feelings.

"Cases I've worked. I've seen some horrible things. But, I love what I do. Speaking of, do you want to go to work with me today? A lot of kids do it in the summer, but if you don't want to, it's fine, I can probably just go in for a bit," Emily says cautiously.

"Yeah, that'll be fine. I don't mind," I tell her, shrugging nonchalantly. Really though, I was terrified of the thought of being alone. I don't trust myself yet.

"Sweet, eat fast and get dressed," Emily says, placing a plate full of eggs and toast in front of me. Food that was neither the hospital's or the shit I can make was glorious. I dug in and cleaned the plate quickly before returning to my bedroom (still can't believe I have my own) and pulled on jeans and Velvet Underground tee shirt. Before leaving the room, I run my fingers through my long hair and throw on my black jacket with the thumbholes cut out. Quickly I lace up my Converses and head to the kitchen.

"It's hot out," Emily says, looking at my jeans and jacket. She was dressed in dressy jeans and a button down. I shrug and grab my backpack. "We are going to have to get you some new clothes before summers over. You only have a few shirts and jeans. But let's go now, Hotch hates tardiness."

**Emily's POV**

Paperwork takes my focus for much of the day; stacks of it cover my usually neat desk, so I immediately begin taking care of that. Rachel sits at a chair I pulled up for her at my desk and listens to her iPod. Besides the moment where Morgan picked me up in a hug when we walked in, claiming he hadn't seen me in too long (3 days), she hasn't smiled yet. I resort to bringing in Garcia.

I text Pen to come and talk about electronics, music or something if she wasn't too busy. Moments later, she bounds in smiling and chatting. "Chocolate bear!" she exclaims and hugs Derek. Honestly, I was never worried about Pen and Derek. They're great friends and really tight, but not romantically inclined. She talks to Reid for a bit, teasing him about statistics, before coming to me.

"Looks like a fun corner," she jokes, looking at my disgustingly overflowed desk and Rachel's silent musings. I watch Rachel study her, taking in her bright clothing, neon hair clips and bright smile. Then, just as I knew she would, Rachel dismisses her as too much. Everyone turns to watch them together.

"What are you listening too?" Penelope asks eagerly.

"Marina & the Diamonds," Rachel replies sullenly, not expecting anyone to know bands.

"Oh! Is it 'I Am Not A Robot'? I love that song! Do you also like Florence & the Machine? Or do you like any dubstep?"

"Ye..Yeah, I do," shock passes over Rachel's face. "Do you listen to them?"

"I listen to everything. Can you sing?" Surprisingly, a bright red flush creeps up from Rachel's neck.  
"I'll be taking that as a yes," Garcia replies to the blush, grinning. "You don't have to for us…yet."

"Do…do you listen to DJ Fresh, MGMT, M.I.A, Passion Pit, Velvet Underground, Crystal Castles, or Tegan and Sara?" I could feel Rachel testing Pen about her knowledge. She doesn't disappoint.

"I love 'Funk Academy', 'The Youth', 'Lovealot', "Sleepyhead', 'Heroin', 'Vanished', and 'I Won't Be Left'. Those are my favorite songs by those bands. What about M-Beat or Pomplamoose?"

"Um, wow. I love 'Incredible' by M-Beat and I haven't heard of the other band," Rachel seems to be enjoying herself now, relaxing a little.

"Come to my lair. I will take you on a musical journey," Garcia suggests. Rachel looks at me worriedly, and I wave her off with a smile. Penelope's lair will be loved by Rachel. They lope off, and Derek approaches me.

"That was clever, getting Pen to get Rachel to loosen up," he compliments, leaning against my desk.

"I think she's a little intimidated by men, and Pen keeps up with new music, so I figured it would be a good fit." I take his hand, loving the familiar sight of his dark skin against my pale complexion. "I missed you," I sigh.

"I missed you too. Luckily you're home," he says, smiling his wide, gorgeous grin. I feel the familiar bubble of happiness expand in my chest and reached up and kissed him, just a peck.

"Unfortunately, she'll be staying at my house until she's comfortable with everything and everyone, so our time might be limited for a little while," I tell him, praying he'll understand and not get angry. Disappointment does cross his face, but it is momentary and not strong.

"Princess, I know how much this means to you, and it means a lot to me too. However long it takes, I'm willing to wait. But I still think we should have date nights. Because I can't go too long without you," he says understandingly.

"Thank you. And we will. I can't go long without you either," I say, and we smile at each other before he heads back to his desk. And I return to paperwork.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey again guys. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Criminal Minds is, sadly, not mine. **

Two weeks later.

Rachel POV

"Are you sure you have everything? And are you positive you'll be okay?" Emily anxiously asks me.

"Yes, I have all I need and I'll be at Pen's so it'll be cool. Don't worry. Just go catch a bad guy. Are you sure you have everything?" I tease, smiling at her protectiveness.

"Yes," she laughs, easing up, "but I'll call you tonight. And don't worry about calling me anytime, even late at night. And Rache," she says, getting closer to me and lowering her voice, "please don't. Especially while I'm gone."

"I promise. Now go, the plane might leave you," I tell her. She wraps me in a hug and I inhale her smell of Dove soap and lavender detergent before she lets go.

"Bye, love you, be good," she says and turns to go down the elevator, leaving me alone at her desk. I frown at the warning she gave me. And I gave a promise; something I try to avoid doing. I run my fingers over my jacket's arms, feeling the slight rises underneath. I haven't done it as much since I moved in with Emily, and she really tries to help me. But sometimes, the feelings and pressures get too much and I have to. Just a small release. Emily is wonderful though, and patient with me.

And holds me when I cry and shake from nightmares.

And she calls me 'honey', and Rache. I've never been called anything endearing before, and I have to hide my smile, even now, when she says it. Her gorgeous boyfriend calls her 'Princess' and calls me 'Mini Prentiss' or just 'Mini'. They're good together. They know each other inside and out, every move they make was recognized by the other before they make it. It's cute.

I know Emily lessened her time with Morgan when I first came, out of respect to my rather tumultuous past experiences with men. But I know when someone is good, and he is. Now he's over for dinner every other night. Sometimes he stays over, but it's not a big deal. Emily asked, rather awkwardly, if he could do that every so often. Who am I to deny her that kind of love?

And now I must hang with Penelope (who I adore) and listen to what they're doing. It makes me nervous, knowing they could be in danger. I love the whole team. Each one represents something to me. JJ is sweet and caring, but braver than expected. Emily, Pen, and JJ get together for girl's night twice a month, and sometimes hang out with me before going out. JJ tells me funny stories about the rest of the team, and shows me pictures of her adorable son. Emily told me her sister killed herself, and it makes me feel guilty while I'm around her. But she never brings it up, or seems like it dirties her image of me.

Reid is fun. He tells me weird facts when I look bored, and manages to make me smile when he trips or does something equally ungraceful. He is just rather fascinating. A genius who also catches serial killers makes for a particularly good combination.

Rossi is cool for an older guy. He's got charm and playfulness, but his body language also demands respect. Which I give, unquestionably. He gives me tips on profiling and reading people based on their movements and clothes and possessions. Everyone likes to joke that I'm his apprentice.

Finally, Hotch. He is stern and impeccably dressed and plays by the rules. We don't talk as much because he intimidates me, but when we do, he is always kind and polite. I've asked Emily about his story, but she said that I should ask him. That is one task I am scared to complete. Occasionally things will make him smile, things that come completely out of the blue, and it's like a small gift to whoever made it happen. He has a son named Jack who comes over for fun get-togethers occasionally. He's a sweet kid.

It can be an odd family if you step back and look, but they make it work well and efficiently. They know what each member is thinking and know how to help. An odd thing I have noticed though, is that Emily is really good at not showing what she feels in tense situations. I realized it when she was going through a file JJ handed her. There were pictures of nude, tortured girls. And while for the first second Emily had a flash of anger in her eyes, it quickly disappeared and was replaced by a quiet determination. But I can understand why she's like that.

The first time I met Ambassador Prentiss, I had to excuse myself and cut a thin line on my thigh, just to release the pressure. She didn't agree with Emily's decision to adopt me, and made it known very often. Ambassador Prentiss alternated between talking down to me, or pretending I wasn't in the room and saying harsh things. Emily was steadily cold to her, calling her "mother" or "ambassador" only. When her mother left, she came over and gave me a big hug, muttering, "She's an emotionless bitch, don't listen to her. I love you and will never regret my decision to take you in." I let my arms wrap around her and suck in warmth from her body and words. The Ambassador has only come over one other time since then, and Emily made sure I didn't have to deal with her.

A tap on my shoulder jolts me out of my thinking, and I twist around. Garcia stands there, smiling at me gleefully. "C'mon, let's go to my room," she says, and I follow her, picking up my backpack. Since I've been here, I have been hanging out in her room whenever I go to Quantico. Which is actually quite a lot, at least until school starts in a month, and then I'll be there and home. Garcia set up a small desk in the corner of her room for me, along with updating my laptop so it works a hundred times better.

We chill for awhile, idly talking about music or the team, before she gets a call on one of her screens.

"Hello, my super crime solvers! What do you have for me today?" Hotch's face appears and you can hear the rest of the team around him.

"Nashville, Tennessee has had three women be abducted, tortured, and killed. They are all brunettes, in their 30's, and have high power jobs. We're looking for a guy in that age range, a string of blue collar jobs, threatened by women, and recently had a traumatic event. Maybe even was fired by a woman who looks like this. We don't have many specifics yet, but we'll keep you updated."

"No problem Captain. I'll begin researching the victims, looking into their lives if you give me names."

"Sandra Close, Tabitha Rich, and Belle Hortan. The most recent one, Hilary Peelfin, was abducted this morning. Thanks, Garcia."

Pen instantly begins to type away and lists and websites appear on different screens before her. I sit there, frozen to my chair, mystified by the speed and accuracy developed by this close knit team. The flow that has evolved truly seems unstoppable. Penelope is already sending information to them, and I know they are all piecing things together intensely.

She finally takes a breath and looks at me.

"Hey, wake up Rachel!" I snap out of it and look at her. "You okay? You can step out if you want, I have before." I shake my head.

"I'm fine. Just zoned out. So you aren't like the rest of the team, as in completely unflappable and composed?" Garcia gives a sad laugh.

"No, darling, I am nothing like the Great Prentiss and Master Hotch," she says before pausing and cheeks becoming red.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, damn. It's a nickname lower workers call them. Em and Hotch know of it, but ignore it. It just means that those two are completely collected and unflinching all the time. They intimidate a whole lotta people."

"Oh, I can get that. Well, Hotch anyway." Inside though, I was offended that people thought of Emily that way. She's really caring and sweet. But at work she seems to be able to hide all emotion to most people, especially outside of the team.

"Don't worry about it. It's a stupid thing. Now, go get me some crackers from the vending machine."

I knew it was a ploy to get me out of the room and in a safer environment, and I took it.

…

"Are you sure you're okay?" Emily's voice sounds worried over the phone.

"Yes, yes, and yes. For real. I. Am. Fine. No worries Emily. Besides, you know, the whole catching a crazy serial killer thing," I say, hoping for a laugh and a lighter tone. I only get the lighter tone.

"Alright, if you say so. We should be home by tomorrow or the next day. Call me if you wake up at night or, you know, want to cut."

"I promise. Get some sleep," I say protectively.

"No worries, right Rache? Good night, love you."

"Ditto," I tell her before I click off. 'My' room at Pen's is the larger of the two guest rooms. Its walls are light green, and the bedspread pink, blue and black. It is almost too colorful to sleep. But I manage to, curled in a ball on the right side, wishing Emily was on the left so I wouldn't be afraid. But tonight, I suppose I am alone.

…

My heart pounds unmercifully in my ribcage. What is wrong with me?

I know the answer.

Fear.

This is why I don't get close. This is why a wall surrounded me. Before Emily.

Anxiety rushes through my blood. I can't help it. I reach for my bag. Grab the glinting silver blade.

Red flushes bright and soothing against pale skin. I can breathe again. My head is clear.

…

Emily POV

It's late at night, almost one in the morning, when I arrive at Pen's house. She gave me a ride from Quantico because I was so damn tired. We were gone for three nights. Long, long nights.

"Thanks PG, you don't even know how much. I'm sorry if she said or did anything," I start, only to be interrupted.

"She was great. Really, she was amazing. I think she's gonna be a profiler, she could always tell when I wanted her to leave and could gage my mood and react. Shit, Em, Rachel is great. She's in here. You gonna sleep there too?"

"Yeah, Pen. Thanks again. I don't know what I would do without you," I give her a hug and enter the guestroom.

Whenever I see Rachel peaceful, my heart aches a bit. I can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest and her skinny arms are hanging off the bed. Then, my heart stills. Red lines.

She's wearing a tee shirt, and her pale, soft skin shows her fresh cuts. It hurts me.

I wish she could have called me. But I also understand why she didn't. It was a spur of the moment thing, or it was too late, or she didn't want to hurt me. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. I slide beside her and wrap her thin frame against me. She doesn't quite wake up, but she does roll over and face me, getting closer.

Sleep eventually gets me, and I feel good again, holding Rachel safely in my arms, where nothing can hurt her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. How are you all? Thank you for continuing to read. I love you guys for it. Please review if you get a chance. **

Fuck me.

Rachel passes me silently, earbuds in, skateboard under her arm. She avoids eye contact. I groan inwardly and follow her out to the car. We are silent until halfway through the way to work.

"Listen, Rache, I'm sorry. I just wanted what's best for you," I start to plead.

"Fuck off. You don't need to do shit for me." She doesn't turn to look at me, just says those words cooly and quietly.

"Yes, I do. Get that through your head. You're my responsibility. I do what is best for you. Ok?" I hate when my angry, lecture voice comes out. I take a deep breath and stare at the road.

She takes a few minutes before answering, "Why do you think I need a private, fucking expensive school? I'm not gonna fit in with the wealthy kids of political parents. They are a completely different breed than me."

"Am I? My parents are wealthy politicians. Am I so different than you? Besides, you don't want to go to an inner city school. I know you went to them back home, but do you really want to do another one? Cause DC is dangerous. Besides, your private school isn't exactly a prep school. It's an arts school. As in, you can take music courses." She doesn't respond.

It takes all the way until we get off at the BAU floor for her to turn to me and say, "I guess you're not so bad. I'll think about it." I try not to smile.

"Go bitch about me to Pen, okay?" It's her turn to try not smiling as she jumps on her skateboard and rides (against all BAU rules) down to Penelope's lair. When I turn around, JJ is staring at me, an amused expression on her face.

"Is that what I have to look forward to?"

"Nah, you have a boy. Your own boy, who will probably love the school he goes to and not worry about whether or not it's a burden," I say and I roll out stress from my shoulders.

"She loves you."

"And Henry loves you." We walk in together, JJ showing me pictures she took last night of Will and Henry. She gets on me about not seeing him recently so we make plans for this weekend to hang out. Unless, of course, there's a case.

…

The day passes by quickly, not much to do besides paperwork and look over some smaller cases. Derek and I go to lunch together, while Rossi, Reid, and JJ go to lunch with Rachel. I thank JJ for going, because she still is more comfortable around women, and it lets Derek and I have some time alone.

Back at home, Rachel goes outside to skateboard and I clean the house for once. When it starts getting dark, I send out a text telling Rachel to come back in, and get a brief, noncommittal reply.

I pour a glass of wine, red and rich, before ordering out dinner. Thai, of course. Curry for Rachel, pad thai for me. Rachel shoves her way inside and drops her board beside the sofa before plopping down on it.

"What's wrong?" I can feel it instantly. Something happened.

"Fuck, it's annoying having a profiler around all the damn time. Just some kids at the park, nothing big." Her body language tells me different. Her shoulders are high and tense, her arms crossed over her chest, she's looking away and her knees are pressed into her.

"Tell me," I ask, coming and sitting by her. She still refuses to look at me.

"I skated up, and there were some kids on a bench. One guy called me over. He was sorta nice, but the girls there were bitches. I just, fuck, I just hate that bullshit. You know, the 'look at her emo style and tight jeans and shit.'" I gather Rachel in my arms and my heart breaks when she grips me back. She doesn't cry though, just wraps herself into me. I know she will wake up tonight, crying, and probably cut if I don't get there in time.

Nightmares are bad. And not just for her, though hers are really scary. They affect everyone, and on the team they are rampant. Reid got them really bad for awhile. Morgan has them sometimes too and he wakes up shuddering. It's almost scary, watching a man as strong and confident as my Derek clutching me in fear.

Though I can't say I haven't done the exact same thing. They change often enough. It used to be of Italy, of a congregation glaring me down. Now, it's of cases. Usually just random aspects of them mixed with losing Derek. Now I am terrified of losing Rachel and Derek. My first one with Rachel was especially horrifying. Her father was released from prison, and broke into my house, even though there was a giant wall and a moat around it. He tied me up and made me watch. My dream ended right when he was about to kill Rachel.

I woke up crying.

Now though, Rachel wiggles out of my arms and sits back. "I'm nervous about school. Wh-what if they figure stuff out about me? I'm too fucked up for the-them not-t to notice."

"Honey, no one, not one person, will know anything unless you tell them. There is no mark on you that identifies you as anything. You'll make friends. It may take some time, but you will. And no one can figure anything out that you don't want them to, especially teenagers. Now, go wash up for dinner and we'll talk more," I say. She stands, letting me grasp her hand briefly.

The door rings and I pay for dinner and go to the kitchen to plate everything up. The door rings again, but this time, it's Derek. I let him in with a kiss and an apology that we didn't order him anything.

"No problem, Princess, I just ate anyway. Just wanted to come over and spend time with you and Rache. Anything going on?"

"She's nervous about school. She thinks people will be able to figure out what happened and she won't have friends." I rest my head against his chest and he wraps his arms around me. I can hear his heart beating, which always soothes me.

"C'mon guys, break it up," Rachel says from the doorway. We separate, but he keeps his hand on my lower back.

"Grab your food, Rachel. Let's go to the living room and eat. Don't spill anything."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she says dryly.

"Well, there was that time with the two liter of Coke…" I trail. She rolls her eyes and walk away.

"Let's go and relax," Derek suggests. I nod and follow him to the other room where Rachel was already stretched out on the sofa eating.

"Why don't you take up the whole sofa, huh?" I joke and push her legs off and sit down. She sticks out her tongue but smiles afterwards. Morgan puts his arm around me and laughs as a noodle sticks to my chin. We don't say anything for awhile, just soaking up each other's company. It's almost like a real family, except if Rachel was my biological daughter with Derek, she wouldn't be as pale. I smile to myself, content and happy and sort of laughing at my thoughts.

"Why you so happy," Rachel asks through a mouthful.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scold instantly, avoiding the question.

"You didn't answer," she says after chewing and swallowing.

"I don't know, I'm just happy we're together." I blush, but Derek holds me closer. Rachel, on the other hand, looks at me and rolls her eyes.

"Are you PMSing?"

"Don't be mean," I say, a little hurt.

"Hey, be respectful to your… um… to Emily," Derek says. I can see him cursing himself for almost saying mother. I snuggle closer to him, hopefully easing his mistake.

"Sorry, sorry," Rachel mutters. But the good vibe is broken and we finish eating quickly. Rachel disappears into her room after dinner, and Derek and I stretch out on the sofa. We lay on our sides, him spooning me of course.

"Thanks for being on my side," I whisper.

"Are you PMSing?" I snort at his question. Then realize I am. He takes my silence as an answer. "She has really got you pegged, you know?"

"I know. I also know I love you." He kisses the top of my head and wraps his arm tightly around my abdomen.

"I love you too," he tells me. We drift off into sleep, listening to each other's heart beats.

…

"Whereyagoing?" Derek slurs sleepily as I get off the sofa.

"Rachel."

"Tell Mini hi," he says before rolling over and going back to sleep. I smile at his sleep driven ignorance. Then I creep to Rachel's room. Her covers are tangled around her sleeping body and I see her form rise and fall, either from breathing or quiet weeping. It's actually both I discover as I get closer.

I climb in beside me and she accepts my intrusion happily, curling into me and grabbing my shirt with her fists. What's worse is that she's awake, and already cut. And she's still freaking.

"Honey, honey, I'm here, shhh," I try to calm her. She stops shaking, and looks up at me with her big, gorgeous green eyes.

"I'm sorry, Em, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong," she gasps. I turn her face to look at me.

"I love you, Rachel. You should never apologize about this. Now, let's go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up. Okay?" She nods and I help her up, avoiding touching the cuts. We go to my bathroom and I make her sit on my counter. "Okay, this might sting," I tell her as I pour hydrogen peroxide onto her skin and follow it with antibacterial soap.

"Shit," she mutters, contorting her face. I gingerly wash her new cuts free of blood or any germs. I notice she won't look at me.

"Hey, Rache, don't be ashamed. When I was your age I did a lot of things that helped me cope at the time. It's normal for people in your situation to seek out something." I realize that the last part sounds like my work voice, and I hate myself for using it.

"What did you do?" She looks up now, curious. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Ok, well, I hated my situation. My mom, you know, is a bitch. She pretty much verbally abused me my whole childhood and I had to be the perfect daughter so she would look good. Um, when I became a teenager, I started doing drugs to fit in. A lot of them. I also cut some, but not as my main dependent. Alright, can you be respectful of the next thing I say?"

Rachel nods.

"I got pregnant. And got an abortion," I say methodically, not looking at her. It doesn't shame me anymore, but some people are vicious about it, and I don't know how Rachel will react.

"Do you regret it?" There is no anger or shock or opposition in her voice and a great weight lifts from my shoulders.

"No. I couldn't have done that at that age. And my mother probably would've disowned me if I went through with it. I'm not exaggerating either."

"Do you believe in God?"

"Not anymore."

"Me either."

"Derek does though, so just be careful not to say anything offensive. He really does and I think it's beautiful, and I wish I could as well."

"What drugs did you do?"

"Weed, pharmaceuticals, acid, some coke but that was hard to get off of and I didn't want to get addicted. I drank a lot. I wasn't myself for three blissful, harmful years. Thank god the FBI doesn't know I used to do all that. But I've stopped. For good."

"Do you have any tattoos?"

"Is this 'Ask Emily Questions Time'?"

"Yes."

"Let's go lay down then." We go to my bed now and curl up facing each other. Rachel gets under my covers and peers at me inquisitively.

"I feel like we got straight to weird stuff, but not basics. Answer the question," she says seriously. When I think about it, we did skip normal questions teenagers ask adults and parents, and went to her worst problems and a lot of small talk and really deep stuff about her.

"Yes."

"Well, can I see it?" She rolls her eyes at me to say 'duh.'

"Fine." I get on my knees and turn around and unbutton my shirt most of the way down. I pull it down and off my shoulders so the exquisitely detailed black/gray feather could show. Rachel gently traces it.

"It's beautiful," she mumbles. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes. And it took a long time to finish because of all the small lines and things. Next question."

"Republican or democrat?"

"Liberal Independent."

"Good answer. I'm tired. I'll finish quizzing you in the morning."

"Sounds good to me," I say and stroke her hair as she delves deeper under the covers. Her breathing deepens as I get under the covers and move closer to her.

…

**Thank you for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello guys. Once again, Criminal Minds is not mine. This is a shorter chapter, but there's more to come soon. Please review!**

…

Rachel's POV

The doorbell rings as I pour a glass of orange juice. Looking out the window first (because I'm still ridiculously paranoid, and living with the FBI hasn't helped) I see JJ.  
"What's up JJ?" I ask, letting her in.

"Nothing, just wanted to stop in and see you guys. No case this weekend, which is a miracle. Is anyone else up, it is nine o'clock," JJ asks me.

"Uh, no, weirdly, the teenager wakes before the adults. Derek's on the sofa though. And Em's in her bed. Want some breakfast?"

"Sure, let's make something good. Why is Derek on the sofa? Did they get into a fight?"

"Nah, he just fell asleep there last night by accident. It's sorta adorable, a big black guy curled up on a cute couch." JJ laughs and we decide to make pancakes together.

Twenty minutes later, we are splattered with pancake batter, but have them in the pan, when Emily walks in, rubbing her eyes. "Whas happnin," she murmurs, acknowledging JJ with a half wave that turns into a yawn.

"Breakfast is, sleepyhead," JJ tells her and perfectly flips another pancake. We high five and giggle.

"Did you just giggle, honey?" Emily asks, eyes wide now.

"Don't tell anyone," I joke back. Emily chuckles and pours herself some coffee. She pulls herself onto a counter and watches JJ and I make more pancakes and chatter. When we have a magnificent stack, I tell Emily to go wake up her boyfriend. Morgan shuffles in, and pours coffee before even looking at us.

Once everyone is ready, we all sit at the table, pancakes before us alongside syrup and butter.

"So," JJ began, "Emily, Rachel, and I are going shopping today."

Derek feigns hurt, "You don't want me to go shopping?"

"Remember last time?" JJ says and both Emily and Derek grimace. That bad. JJ and I laugh and start to clean up after everyone is finished eating.

"Thank you Em," I say softly.

"Don't even think about it. Do you need any help putting your clothes away?"

"No, I got it," I tell her and head to my room, lugging multiple bags. Clothes, clothes, clothes. JJ and Emily helped me rock these stores too. We went to Georgetown to funky little shops along with college crazed stores like Urban Outfitters and Rugby. Now, I have more clothes than I ever have collectively.

Cute tops, skinny jeans, jackets, blazers, skirts, tights, dresses, scarves, hats, and shoes all now are mine. Not just Converses and tee shirts. It's almost odd to see my closet actually having things in it.

But I know it's all for what I'm dreading. School is starting soon. I sigh deeply, not realizing I had done it until I feel a hand on my back.

"You okay?" Emily asks. I nod and move from her touch. For some reason, it's irritating me. Ugh, I hate it when I get in random pissy moods. Emily steps back though, respectful. "You're so gorgeous," she comments suddenly.

"What?" I say, looking at her, eyebrows raised.

"You're beautiful," she states simply.

"Ok, Em. Whatever you say. All my nasty scars are so lovely, along with my lack of boobs and gangly height and no ass. Yeah, beautiful." Shit, I'm snarky. Emily just stands there looking at me, waiting to see if I have anything else. "Sorry."

"I love you, Rache," she says before leaving me alone in my fully clothed room. I need to get my act together before my education begins.

Apparently, placement tests are more important than what grade I'm actually supposed to be in. So now I'm in all junior classes as a freshman. It's a bit intimidating. Pre-cal, AP Gov, Hon. US History, and English III are my academic classes. Then I have Introduction to Singing, Music theory, and Art History as my arts classes. I'm not going to have a social life.

After school I usually go to the bus stop, get off at the one closest to Quantico, and go to the BAU. All the guards know who I am so it's easy to get around there. If the team is there, I go and sit on Emily's desk and answer her questions about school and how my day went. She'll give me a quick hug and goes back to reviewing files with Reid and I'll go annoy Garcia or JJ. If I had homework, I'd go to Garcia so she can help me or Google the answer. If I don't have homework, then I'll go into JJ's office and either sleep on her sofa or read a book. Sometimes she'll ask my opinion on things such as "Do three kills evenly spaced beat two escalating with hints of sexual sadism?" Sometimes we'll discuss office gossip or her son. When she can tell I'm in a bad mood, she'll come sit by me and let me lean against her for a bit. Then she'll let me be, knowing Emily will really get to the bottom of it later.

But most days, I'll sleep.

Friends at school are harder to find, especially because of my upperclassmen classes. All those kids think they're cooler, so I'm alone. Except in my arts classes, there are a good mix of grade levels in there. I sit with a big group at lunch, full of good kids who just casually accepted me because they're just basically nice and kind of boring.

There is one kid though; his name is Julian, who I want to be friends with. He always wears tight dark jeans with Keds (red, blue, yellow, white, pink or orange) and a plain white tee shirt that often has paint edging the hem. He has multiple jackets ranging from leather, to professor style to old corduroy. He was placed in advanced art as a freshman and is taking Music Theory in order to be more rounded out. He has short brown hair that goes straight up, but long enough to be attractively messy. A cigarette is also always tucked behind his ear, and teachers don't even care. Sometimes, I've noticed that it's a joint, but most days it's a cigarette. He sits by me in Music Theory and we goof off sometimes; making fun of the teachers and other kids, drawing goofy photos, that sort of thing. And today he gave me a note:

LET'S HANG ON FRIDAY?

His blocky, all capital handwriting was something I could profile, but decide not to. That messes things up sometimes. Instead, a small bubble of hope rises in me.

_Yeah. When and where? And who else? _

I'LL JUST PICK YOU UP AFTER SCHOOL. WE CAN HANG OUT AND CALL SOME OF MY FRIENDS. YOU DON'T KNOW A BUNCH OF PEOPLE YET DO YOU?

_Not really. And that sounds good. _

He flashes a bright smile at me and it makes me excited for tomorrow. I just have to get Emily to okay it. Uh oh.

…

"Thank you, I love you," I shout over my shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Emily yells before I slam the door and run out to the school. Classes can't go by fast enough today, Friday. Finally, after Music Theory, we walk out to his car. It's a beat up green Neon.

"So, what do ya wanna do? We can drive around and listen to music or go to a mall or call some friends."

"Let's drive for awhile before you call your friends," I reply, hoping it's the right answer.

"Sweet. You wanna smoke some?" He asks, pulling the joint from behind his ear. I know what I should do in this situation, but I miss smoking. I haven't done it since I've lived with Emily.

"Yeah, for sure," I say. He drives off school property and winds his way past crowded streets and into the suburbs before he gives the ok. It's weird he would wait this long to smoke when he obviously doesn't care who sees in the school. Whatever though.

"Shit, I haven't smoked in a while," I cough after a deep inhale. Good bud. I pass it to him.

"No worries," he tells me before placing it to his lips, "Now, let's put on some good music." Smoke trickles out from his mouth as he speaks, making him look so sexy. He turns up the volume and I hear Kid Cudi rapping his angsty rhymes. It sounds so good. Damn good bud.

We drive around for a while, listening to good music and talking about everything. Well, almost everything. Soon though, he calls his friends.

…

"Hey, how'd it go?" Emily asks when I walk in.

"It was fun, pretty low key. I met a bunch of new people," I reply, hoping I don't sound stoned.

"What did you do?" Her voice takes on a slightly different tone, one more suspicious. Oh god.

"We drove around and listened to good music. Then we went to this girl's house, her name is Hunter, and we watched a movie. And now I'm home."

"You're stoned. Fuck. Go to bed," she says, shaking her head.

"What? No, Emily, no. I'm not. Why do you think that? Em, I'm not. I didn't do anything while with Julian," I say, obviously sounding desperate and stoned. I'm so dead.

"Go," she orders me harshly. I close my eyes and breathe before admitting defeat and heading to my room. I do hear her let out a deep sigh, and it makes me regret what I've done. Defeated, I go to my room and stare at the wall until I drift into an uneasy sleep.

**Thanks for reading! Review? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, thank you so much for the reviews! Criminal Minds is not mine, obviously. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for continuing to read. **

**Emily POV**

"Please stop talking. Please. You can explain later, but for now, I have a headache," I tell Rachel. She's frantically trying to tell me what happened, but my migraine is not feeling it.

Honestly, I don't care too much about the weed. I'm madder that she tried to cover it up. Like I couldn't immediately tell. I came home way too many times as teenager on things worse than marijuana. Much, much worse. I'm actually glad it wasn't alcohol, because alcohol is much more dangerous than weed.

But, I am so not letting her off the hook. Illegal things are illegal and I am in the FBI and if she was caught, it would look bad. Really bad. I wouldn't worry about that too much, except Strauss wants to kill me half the time.

"Just, I'm so sorry. You can punish me however you like. I won't do it again," Rachel pleads. I pull to a stop at a stop sign, take two Advil, and turn to her.

"Limited weekends. You're with me at work. I meet your new friends. You don't ever, ever lie to me again. Don't do it again unless you don't want to go to college. I'm not going to kill you this time, but it is true that these things can lead to other things which lead to worse things and that will NOT happen. Okay? It's not fun getting caught up in that kind of world. Trust me. It's not cool and it can become rather pathetic rather quickly. Until it is legal, don't smoke weed. And please calm down. I have tons of files to review and a horrible headache," I state, hoping to close the argument.

"Oh God, that's fine with me. I'm so sorry. I love you Em," she tells me. I raise my hand and nod. Finally, we pull into Quantico parking lot.

…

I have the comfiest desk chair of all of them. It is the envy of the bullpen. It comes in handy when my head is going to explode. Except when someone is sitting in it after I leave for coffee for only two minutes.

"Spencer Reid, get up," I slowly and dangerously say. Reid gets the cutest, most terrified expression on his face.

"Morgan dared me," he tattles.

"C'mon man," I hear Morgan say.

"You will pay," I say to him before plopping in my chair and rubbing my temple.

"What's the matter Princess?" Derek asks, concerned.

"Nope, go sit down. You're dead to me now. Letting Reid sit in my chair. Rookie mistake." I smile at him to let him know I'm not that mad. But still, it's my chair. My wonderful, wonderful chair.

"Seriously, you okay?"

"Yeah, I have a migraine and Rachel came home high as hell last night. Other than that, just dandy."

"Shit. I'm sorry. I can talk to her if you want," he offers. I shake my head and instead pull him in for a soft kiss.

"It's okay. We figured it out. Thank you though," I whisper into his ear. We share a gentle kiss and I go back to resting on his chest.

"Can you guys stop being adorable, it's a little distracting," I hear Penelope yell across the room. Derek and I split apart immediately. "Ah, Emily, it's so cute when you blush," she jokes.

"I may kill you," I call out to her.

"Hey, no threats on government property," Hotch suddenly says. Derek and I spin around and see him giving everyone a half smile. I love it when he smiles. "Conference room, ten minutes," he adds on.

I face Derek. Hotch didn't sound or look like we had a case. Derek shrugs and kisses me one more time before returning to his less-comfortable-than-mine chair.

…

"Okay guys, I have some news that could be considered bad or could be considered good," Hotch starts. Everyone looks at him strangely. "The BAU has been asked to put on a Halloween party in a month for a couple other departments. I agreed because honestly, we need to look good for the upper people. We do often get in trouble, so, please just try for this stupid thing. Garcia, I expect you to take the lead on this since you are, well, rather festive. Reid, you're also going to be head because of your complete love of Halloween. Thank you," he finishes.

I groan, Garcia claps, Reid looks eager, JJ smiles and Morgan just shrugs.

"Alright guys, that's all. Back to work. Strauss will be pleased," Hotch dismisses us.

I return to my comfy chair and pop another Aspirin.

…

Rachel POV

"Hey Rachel! Wait up, I wanna ask you something," Samantha, a girl from my chorus class yells to me.

"Um, hey, what's up?" I 'm a bit confused to why she was talking to me. She's sorta popular with the indie/underground kids and I am not popular nor acknowledged by any group. She's also really pretty, but I've noticed she never accepts any advances by guys. She also goofs off in class all the time.

"So, me and my friends are starting a band. And you have the perfect voice for it. I'm piano, Danny, do you know Danny, well he's bass guitar and Ian is electric and/or acoustic. Also, Shannon is drums. But we need a singer, and you are it. Are you in?"

"Um, that would be awesome. I just have to ask Em… my mom," I stumble over what to call her. Shit. "But she'll probably say yes."

"I hope so. This band could be amazing with the right people. We're all getting together after school Wednesday at my house. Tell me if you can come," she says and walks away with a goodbye wave.

Please Emily.

I hurry to the bus stop and tap my feet nervously until I get to the BAU stop. I wave at all the guards and secretaries and finally get to the elevator. The doors slide open and I rush to Emily's desk.

"Can I be in a band?" I ask before she can even say hello.

"What? A band? Were you asked? Who asked?"

"I was. They said I have the perfect voice. It's Samantha, Danny, Ian and Shannon. They're all good kids," I tell her, not really knowing if the last part was true.

"When do you start?"

"Wednesday."

"I swear to God Rachel, if I catch you smoking or doing anything stupid, I will destroy your social life. Can I also meet these people?"

"Oh my God, I love you. Thank you so, so much. You can come to practice or something to meet them and stuff. Whatever you want. Thank you. I love you!" I yell.

"Smoking what?" Reid asks, peering casually into our conversation.

"Marijuana," Emily tells him, rolling her eyes. Reid noticed.

"There are lots of different things you can smoke, Emily. Such as marijuana, crack-cocaine, methamphetamines," Reid says before being interrupted.

"Okay, okay. Stop giving her ideas," Emily jokes.

"So I can do it? I can be in the band?" I plead.

"Yes. Don't make me regret this decision," she warns.

"Thank you so much!" I squeal and give her a big hug.

"Shoo, I have work to do. Go tell the others. I love you too," Emily tells me, turning back to her desk and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you have a headache?" I ask.

"No, no, I'm fine. Just tired," she remarks.

"Sorry," I say guiltily. I woke up last night freaking out. I hadn't done it in almost a week. Damn.

"Hey, don't ever, ever, say you're sorry. Okay? You have nothing to be ashamed of," she says firmly, grasping my hand in hers. I briefly nod, embarrassed, and walk up to JJ's room.

"Hey Rachel, how was school?" JJ asks as I come in.

"I'm gonna be in a band!" I tell her.

"Really, as the singer?"

"Yep!"

"So we're finally going to be able to hear you?"

"I suppose so," I blush.

"Finally," she laughs. I never sing in front of people. Only Emily has heard me and that's because I always sing to myself in my room.

….

"Hey, Samantha, I can be in the band," I tell her excitedly after class.

"Oh thank God. Listen, do you need a ride to my house tomorrow?" Samantha seems genuinely thrilled and her smile is contagious.

"Um, yeah, that'd be great."

"Okay, meet me in the student parking lot after school. Also," she adds, rummaging through her bag, "listen to these," she says as she hands me a stack of CDs.

"By tomorrow?" I ask, eyeing the many CDs, seeing I already know a good deal of the bands.

"Not necessarily. These are just bands we're sort of aiming to sound like," Samantha tells me. She has this bright red hair that swoops beside her cheek. I weirdly want to push a strand behind her ear. I snap out of it.

"Alright, looking forward to it," I say. She waves and walks away. There's about six CDs in my hand. My new homework, I think and grin.

…

"Hey babe, I caught a case. Are we good for groceries for a few days?"

"You seem nervous, is everything alright?" I ask Emily. She shrugs.

"Yeah, just undercover work is always stressing. Food?"

"Um, yeah. Just leave me money and I'll run down to the store. Where are you being undercover?"

"It's a religious sect sort of thing. Don't just buy junk food. Hopefully I'll be back before the weekend so you don't have to worry about much." She's acting fidgety, her fingers tapping anxiously as she gets her stuff together. I know as soon as she's out that door, though, she'll have her walls up and emotions tucked away.

"Are you ready?"

"What? Yes, yes, of course. Reid and I will do fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"Should I make cookies for your return?"

"That would be very much appreciated," she says smiling. Then she wraps me in a tight hug, one tighter than usual. "I love you. Pen will be working a whole lot but will come check on you every night. Are you good?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I like the trust here. Me, by myself. It's nice," I comment.

"Don't mess it up. Okay, I have to go. Love you, goodnight and goodbye," she says, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

"No worries. Love you too." She waves as she walks out the door. That was intense. I shake off the uneasy feeling I have. She'll be fine. She always is. I push the thoughts from my mind and go to buy some pizza, chips, and cookies. Win.

…

Why hasn't anyone called? Emily usually calls by now. Why hasn't she? Jesus, get a hold of yourself. Everything's fine. Emily's fine. My phone rings. I leap for it.

"Hello," I say eagerly.

"Hey Rachel, its JJ. Emily was, um, she was taken hostage. We know she's okay for now though. Penelope can't come, but are you okay?"

"Who gives a fuck about me! How's Emily? Are you going to get her out? JJ, promise me you'll get her out. She's my family. I can't… I can't believe this. Oh my God," I breathe.

"Rachel, calm down. She's fine. We are going to get her out. We're working on a plan and she will be safe at home with you soon. I promise Rachel. She's my family too," JJ says protectively. I hear noises in the background. "Listen, I gotta go, but I love you and everything will be okay. Don't worry," she says and hangs up.

I can't move. I'm frozen. What will happen? What will happen to me if anything happens to Emily? What's currently happening to Emily? Oh my god. I depend on her too much for anything bad to happen. I can't go back to foster homes. They rip people apart.

I need Emily. There's no one else in the world I trust as much as her.

I'm all alone, waiting for a phone call, and envisioning horrible things.

**Thank you again for reading. Soon, there will be a love interest for Rachel, and maybe not who people expected. There are hints of it in this one. Review if you wish, and thank you. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again. This one is really long. A teensy bit of drunken femslash. Review if you feel the need. **

**Criminal Minds does not belong to me… **

"Rachel?"

"Emily?" I yell into the phone.

"Oh my God, sweetheart, I missed you so much. Are you okay? I can't wait to see you," she rambles. There's a slight hitch in her voice, barely detectable to the untrained ear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you, are you okay?"

"I've looked better, but it's not bad. Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'll be home in a few hours. I can't wait to see you. I love you Rachel."

"I love you too Emily."

Time to make cookies.

…

"Rachel, are you up?" I hear Emily whisper into the house.

"You're home!" I yell and am about to give her a hug when I realize the extensive amount of bandages on her face.

"No hugs. Sorry. I have two broken ribs. Derek here made me go to the hospital," she rolls her eyes.

"Oh God, are you okay? Do you need anything. Your face looks really bad," I tell her. Her shirt has blood on it and her face is all bruised up and there scrapes over her face and arms and chest.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just tired."

"Unfortunately, I have to go home to feed my dog and take care of stuff, so I won't be staying over, but in the morning she has to clean the wounds and re-do bandages. Make sure she does it, okay Mini?" Derek says.

"Got it, Captain," I reply, giving him a brief hug.

"Alright, goodnight guys. I love you Princess," Derek says, kissing Emily gently. She whispers it back to him and they share a look so full of emotion, I can't even begin to fathom it. With one last wave, he leaves.

"Want a cookie?"

"Hell yes."

I bring the cookies out to her and watch her gingerly place herself on the sofa.

"Chocolate chip," I tell her.

"Thank you sweetheart," she whispers. I hand the plate to her and sit on the floor between her legs. She flips on a movie and we watch in silence. She starts to play with my hair.

We sat. And we pretended we were okay.

Only later that night, when we were scared to separate, did we show how worried we were about each other. I made sure she lay on her good, non-broken side, and she protectively held me in her bed. I could tell she was crying, and she would wipe my tears away with her soft thumbs.

"I can't lose you," I whisper, "You're my mom."

"You're mine, Rachel, you're my daughter," she whispered back, pulling me closer.

We barely slept that night.

…

Emily POV

Things slowed down after that case. I had a few days off because of injuries and mental damage. Strauss tried to push me into therapy. That didn't go over well.

Rachel watched me carefully; I could feel her eyes on me whenever I did anything. She also started calling me mom more often. Every time she does I can feel my heart swell.

Derek is more protective now. Almost too much. If he doesn't back off, Hotch is going to separate us more on cases and give us fatherly lectures. He holds me so tight sometimes at night I can't fall asleep.

I would wake up soon anyway.

It's always Cyrus' eyes, staring me down, filled with rage and cold. And just total fear. Fear of death. Fear of leaving Derek. Fear of leaving Rachel. The uncertainty of what Cyrus would do to me.

I didn't tell anyone one thing. Right before he left me alone on that bed, he pushed his fingers inside me. No noise, no words, just a few powerful thrusts and he left. No one can know.

I can block it.

Now, I just can't be around JJ. She can feel the difference. At the Halloween party at the BAU, she followed me around, watching me do everything until I told her rather harshly to back off.

The party was fun though. PG and Reid did a good job decorating and Strauss got drunk and tried to kiss Rossi. He pulled her off him and blushed bright red. The entire floor was decorated with Halloween paraphernalia and there was tons of 'scary' food. Rachel stopped by for a while with the Samantha girl she's good friends with before leaving. She stayed with her friend that night.

I worry about the parties she goes to. She isn't suffering any affects of long term drug use and never comes home messed up, but I can only imagine the things kids do today. I just hope she's safe. And I am over protective in the fact that I text her a lot when she's out. The texts always come back quickly and grammatically correct, so I guess that works.

I'm more protective now, too.

Derek, I may have fooled into thinking I was just scared of letting go after being held hostage and that's why I couldn't give myself up for awhile. I finally did. And then I waited for him to fall asleep before letting the tears come.

It's easier now. But sometimes hurts.

JJ, on the other hand, has asked constantly about what happened in there. She is always saying, "You can tell me anything. Open up, Em," and I assure her I'm fine.

And put the memories in boxes that only open when triggered.

I sigh and rub my eyes. This stupid case is triggering.

"Foreign objects. Okay, he's impotent. What else?" I ask the room. JJ eyes me carefully and I carefully avoid looking at her.

"Taken for only two days. One to torture, one to kill and dispose of. Probably has a separate house or building for this," Rossi says.

"White, male, late thirties," Reid says. "He has a distinct type: late thirties women who work in the housing market, mostly real estate. Garcia, can you find links between the women?"

"On it, Super Genius Boy," she says and starts typing furiously.

"We're landing in an hour. Get some rest. I feel like we'll need it," Hotch interjects. We all nod and break up into our different seats on the plane.

Reid sits across from Rossi, reading at the speed of lightning. Rossi folds his hands and shuts his eyes, not sleeping, but relaxing. Derek has his headphones on and is lying down on a seat in the far corner. Hotch keeps going through files.

I stare out the window and try not to think about fingers. It takes JJ saying my name a few times for me to look up at her.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" JJ asks.

"Jesus, yes. I'm fine. Stop asking," I snap. I see the hurt fly across JJ's face. "Sorry JJ, I'm just tired. I'm fine, really. No worries, alright?"

"Yeah, okay Emily. Keep telling yourself that," JJ harshly tells me and moves to another seat.

Oh shit.

…

"I'll be home tomorrow, okay sweetheart. How are you?" I ask Rachel.

"I'm fine Madre. We're performing Friday night!"

"Really? Are you ready? Any original songs yet?"

"Nah, just covers. But, we're working on songs. They'll be tidied up soon. Listen, I gotta finish homework, but I will see you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too, babe. Goodnight. Sleep well. Call me if you need me."

"Calm down. I'm fine. Don't worry."

"That's my job," I reply with a smile.

"Ugh, mom, bye, love you," she says. I can almost see her rolling her eyes.

When we hang up, I can't stop the smile on my face. I was so scared about adopting Rachel, but it's the best thing I've ever done. It's a struggle some days, but worth every minute just to hear her call me mom.

"How's Rachel," JJ asks, emerging from the bathroom in pajamas, drying her hair with a towel.

"She's good. She has her first show on Friday."

JJ smiles and nods. I'm nervous. Derek and I have a rule to not share rooms on cases, so I have to share rooms with JJ usually. Which isn't bad. We're like sisters. But, this past case, things have been tense.

"So, did you sleep at all this case?" JJ's question catches me off guard. And I try to think if I have. I remember a brief nap with my head on the conference room table.

"Sorta? You?"

"Yes. Every night. You saw me go to sleep. What were you doing while I was asleep?" The first night I woke up after twenty minutes shaking I was scared so much. So every night I've looked over the file and built up the profile more and more. Eventually, after I'm done profiling extensively, I'll stare at the wall and not think for awhile.

"Um, I reviewed the file a bunch. I don't know. Just, couldn't sleep I guess," I lamely offer. She shakes her head and looks me up and down.

"Did you eat during this case?" I squeeze my eyes shut and roll my shoulders.

"No JJ. I didn't. I bet Hotch didn't either. Sometimes you just get caught up in the case, alright?"

"Emily, I see there's something wrong. If you don't want to tell me, fine, but you have to come to terms with it sometime. Or else it will destroy you. Goodnight, Emily." She gets under the covers of her bed and turns out the light.

Fuck her. I roll over and close my eyes.

…

My eyes didn't stay closed long. I wake myself up with a scream. Instantly, I muffle it, hoping JJ is a deep sleeper or won't get in my face about it.

WRONG.

I feel her weight on my bed. I feel her hand slip into mine. Her fingers brush away my tears. Unconsciously I grip her hand back.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I'm not supposed to be a victim."

"You're so strong, Emily, you're not just a victim. What happened?"

"He, he put fingers… he put fingers in me. Me. JJ, why?" I sob. She pulls me closer into her.

"Because he needed to feel power over someone so strong. He didn't ruin you, Emily. No one can ever ruin someone as strong and beautiful as you." I nod and take in a shaking breath.

"How am I supposed to be strong for Rachel? Should I tell her? Should I tell Derek?"

"You should tell Derek. You guys are too good for a horrible man to break you apart. He will support you fully and love you unconditionally. But Rachel, I'm not sure. Maybe when you get a better grip on it? She's been through so much that I don't know what she can handle and what she can't. It's all up to you, Em."

"Can you stay with me tonight? I won't sleep…" I trail off.

"Of course," she replies and strokes my hair.

Somehow, curled up with my best friend, I manage to rest.

…

Rachel POV

"Samantha! Hey, wait up!" I call out.

"Hey Rachel, what's up?" She says, turning and smiling at me.

"About tonight, what kind of party is it?"

"It will be a fun one, with us playing. Don't worry, you'll do fine. I know it's your first high school party but I know my way around. Get ready to party, huh girl?" She winks at me.

"Okay, sounds good. What time will you pick me up?"

"'Bout nine?"

"Good with me," I say, smiling.

"Are you gonna go through with the haircut?" Samantha asks excitedly.

"Yeah, I think so. Time for a change, ya know? Think it will look okay?"

"You're gonna look hot, trust me. It'll look great for the party," she remarks, smiling broadly at me. "Okay, I gotta get to French, but see you tonight!" She waves goodbye and saunters down the hallway.

I watch her go for a minute before snapping out of it. She has fiery, long red hair and wears cool tight pants and band tees and funky floral shirts. She holds her head high and shoulders back. She can play the piano amazingly too.

We've gotten really close recently, and half the time I end up hanging out with her after practice and doing homework and talking. Her mom is never home. We talk for hours and often fall asleep right beside each other. Samantha always does these things where she'll briefly touch my arm or my back as if to guide me around. It's sorta nice. She also warned me about classic players at the school, including Julian. I rolled my eyes at this one, knowing what an idiot I was. Of course I would fall for a player. That's what they do.

Emily likes Sam, which is good. But Emily hasn't been herself recently. Something has been off. I can barely feel it. She flinches if I touch her, and is shaky when she hears me walk into a room before turning around and seeing it's me.

I'm worried about her. But she seemed okay this morning, even happy. She told me that she, JJ, and Garcia were going to sneak into the high school party to hear the first few songs. I can't imagine Penelope sneaking anywhere.

I'm snapped out of my thinking by the bell ringing. Shit, I'm late.

…

"Oh my God, you look like Emma Watson!" Samantha squeals. I laugh and take in her awesome outfit: a dark purple dress and ripped silver tights. Her red hair was loose and wavy down her back.

"You look very pretty yourself," I say. She rolls her eyes and grabs my hand, leading me to where Danny, Ian and Shannon are setting up. "Hey guys," I offer. Everyone smiles and says hello.

Danny, the bass man, is dressed in tight jeans and a paint splattered tee while Ian rocks a casual, brown leather jacket look. Shannon looks super cute in a neon yellow skirt, gray shirt, and pink tights.

Rocking my new super short hair, I'm also wearing a teal romper with ripped up floral tights and a black cardigan. Samantha asked me once about why I always wear longs sleeves. Apparently, I am very sensitive to cold weather.

"Everyone ready," Shannon asks, looking around. We can hear people behind our makeshift curtain dancing to the stereo.

When everyone nods, I step in front of everyone else and grab the mic. Alexandra, the girl who's throwing this party, rips our curtain away and tons of people clap and yell. The stereo stops and Danny starts with the beat of our first cover. I start belting out the lyrics to Kiss With A Fist, by Florence and the Machine with passion.

**you hit me once  
i hit you back  
you gave a kick  
i gave a slap  
you smashed a plate  
over my head  
then i set fire to our bed**

you hit me once  
i hit you back  
you gave a kick  
i gave a slap  
you smashed a plate  
over my head  
then i set fire to our bed  


I watch the crowd go crazy and start dancing. Out of the corner of my eye I see JJ and Garcia dancing together, red cups from the keg in hand.

**My black eye casts no shadow  
your red eye sees no pain  
your slaps don't stick  
your kicks don't hit  
so we remain the same  
blood sticks and  
sweat drips  
break the lock if it don't fit  
a kick in the teeth is good for some  
a kiss with a fist is better than none  
a-woah a kiss with a fist is better than none**

broke your jaw once before spilt your blood upon the floor  
you broke my leg in return  
sit back and watch the bed burn  
well love sticks sweat drips  
break the lock if it don't fit  
a kick in the teeth is good for some  
a kiss with a fist is better than none  
a-woah a kiss with a fist is better than none

you hit me once  
i hit you back  
you gave a kick  
i gave a slap  
you smashed a plate over my head  
then i set fire to our bed

you hit me once  
i hit you back  
you gave a kick  
i gave a slap  
you smashed a plate over my head  
then i set fire to our bed

I finish and everyone is so riled up and we keep going with our set. This feeling is unbelievable.

…

"You… you did so good Rachel. So damn good," Samantha slurs. I laugh and take her cup from her.

"I think you've had enough girl," I tell her.

"NO…no…you are the one who hasn't had enough," she says. I raise my eyebrow at her. "Drink the rest of mine! Or else," she warns. I laugh and swallow the last of the shitty beer.

"Happy now," I ask.

"Almost dearie, almost," she says, pulling out a joint. I think of Emily, how proud she was of me tonight. But she's gone now, and I'm spending the night here…

"One hit," I promise Samantha. Her smile is as big as the moon. She moves from her seat beside me and instead straddles me and lights up in front of my face. I lean back some, a little confused by this change.

We pass it back and forth and I start to relax even though she remains perched on top of me. I wave to people I know and some come and sit beside us for awhile. It's a relaxed party; more weed than alcohol at this point so everyone's really chill. Earlier it was crazier but now it's calmer.

"I'm tired, dearie," Samantha tells me. Concerned, I help her off me and take her upstairs where Alexandra told us there were sleeping bags and blankets. I grabbed some stuff from the middle of the hallway and knocked on doors until we found an unoccupied one.

"You okay?" I asked, laying out blankets on the floor of the study we were in. She fake collapses and giggles while reaching her hand out to me. I take it and she pulls me hard enough that I barely catch myself before falling on her.

Suddenly, everything was still. Her eyes pierce mine.

Then, we were kissing. She deepens it and we can't stop.

Coming up for air, I say, "Wow."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't think it would be like this," Samantha smiles and pulls me down for more.

…

**Thank you for reading. Suggestions are welcome. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, I don't own Criminal Minds. Also, there is smuttiness in the first part. So, yeahhhhhh. Please keep reading, and review! **

Emily POV

"I've missed you," Derek tells me, pulling me in deeper to his kiss.

"I haven't gone anywhere," I reply, teasingly pulling out of his grasp.

"Yes, you have. Somewhere in that big head of yours. I want you to tell me what went on in there, but after this," he says, pulling me back down.

We kiss deeply, his hands wandering to the hem of my shirt and he begins to unbutton it and slides it off my shoulders. He unhooks my bra and growls appreciatively.

"It's not like you haven't seen them before," I joke.

"Baby, you're so beautiful. It's like seeing them for the first time every time," he whispers into my ear before dropping his head and sucking my ear lobe. Slowly, he traces down my neck and sucks on my pulse point, causing me to buck a bit.

He continues his trail and reaches my breasts where he grasps onto a nipple. I let out a low moan and then a sharp noise when he bites on. He continues pleasuring my chest for a while, making me need him so much. Then, I feel his hand creep down my stomach and, before he dips his fingers between me, I grab his arm.

"You okay," he asks, pulling back, worried.

"Yeah, yeah, I just… babe, I need you in me now," I say, hoping he does what I say. He knows I usually like being teased by his hands and mouth before, but he does what I wish.

He lets out a feral growl as he thrusts into me, my own moans challenging his. We rise together, rolling our hips and making our rhythm. I peak first, my walls clenching tight around him and screaming his name. He keeps going and I come a second time, this time with him. We collapse together on the bed, panting and sweating. He wraps his strong arms around me.

Having sex with him is incomparable to anyone else. He treats me right and I can feel the connection between us so strongly it's overpowering.

Plus, I'm always happily sore the next morning.

Now, though, we have to talk.

…

"HE DID WHAT?" Derek roars. I've prepared myself for this. Derek's anger is infamous in the BAU, as is his protective nature. I let him have his space.

That is, until he begins to slam his fist into my bathroom wall. I carefully walk over to him and run my fingers down his back. He spins around and holds me so tight I can barely breathe.

"Baby, I'm so sorry for what that monster did. Baby, I'm so, so sorry. I love you. I love you so much," he whispers to me, his voice cracking with emotion. I let him hold me for a long time, feeling secure in his strong arms.

"It's fine Derek. And I know you, so don't think you're guilty in any sense. There was nothing, you hear me, _nothing_, you could have done. Calm down, babe. It's over. It's all over. And I love you too. Now, take a deep breath and let's go get some coffee, okay?" I ask. I feel his chest expand and shrink as he gets his temper under control.

"How are you the one so calm?" He asks, looking at me seriously.

"I've had a lot of time to come to terms with it," I start. Seeing his raised eyebrows and knowing what he's thinking, I add, "I'm going to see a therapist. Just, let me find one I'm comfortable with."

"Good. Does Rachel know? Wait, who knows at all? Shouldn't Hotch know?"

"Only you and JJ know. I don't really need to tell Hotch. I'm fine. Really," I promise him.

"We can't have another Elle," he whispers. I nod, letting my hand draw patterns on his chest. Elle was what I can never become. But I know I won't. I have better control and can manage it. Hopefully. Another Elle was a taboo at work.

"C'mon," I say, pulling on his arm, "let's go sit somewhere and relax."

He looks me straight in the eye, and as much as I want, I don't break contact. Then, nodding to himself, he leans in and kisses me passionately. It was a possessive kind of kiss, one that screams of fear of others and needing to let me know he loved me, no matter what. I pushed back fully.

…

"Hey Rachel, hey Samantha," I say, seeing them walk through the door.

"Hey Ms. Prentiss, how was your day?" Samantha asks, as charming as ever.

"Good, how about yours?" I ask back.

"Really good. I got a 100 on my English test. And Rachel made a 98 on hers," she says, smiling brightly at me. I can feel the need for approval, for a parental figure to acknowledge her good job.

"That's great! Rachel should study more to catch up with you," I joke. Samantha beams back at me. "And how are you, my Rachel?"

"Good. Same ol', same ol'," she replies, shrugging.

"Alright, whatever you say," I say, playing her nonchalant game.

"My pre-cal teacher absolutely loathes me," she admits.

"Why?" I wonder.

"It might have something to do with when Rachel told him to stop looking down her shirt," Samantha pipes in.

"You did that?" I ask.

"Yeah. I know, I know, it's disrespectful, but he's a creep," she says, looking at me with pleading eyes. Closing my eyes for a second, I nod in her direction.

"Stick it to him," I tell her. She shyly grins. I know how uncomfortable she still is around men, and the thought of her math teacher being disrespectful makes me sick. Samantha looks a little confused to why I'm so lax, yet defensive about the subject.

"Thank you," Rachel says. "I'm gonna grab a quick shower. You okay with Emily?" She asks Samantha.

"Duh. Now leave us be," Samantha jokes back.

Rachel leaves us and there is that moment of awkwardness.

"Why are you home from work so early?" Samantha asks, breaking the tension.

"For once, I finished my work early, and my boss let me get home. Are you hungry, thirsty?"

"Nah I'm good, thanks. Your job sounds super bad-ass."

"Eh, there definitely are bad-ass aspects, but also more paperwork than you can imagine. Plus, you know, it can be sad sometimes. And I have to deal with really horrible people. But it's worth it," I explain to her.

"It's still badass."

"What do your parents do?" I ask, a little apprehensively.

"Do you know who Senator Cragenson is?" She asks. I nod.

"That's my mom. My dad left us when I was three," she says with a blank look.

"You're good," I comment. She looks up, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"You've already got the uniform expression, the perfect posture. I bet when important people come around you know how to 'be seen, not heard' and you're always seen looking perfectly presentable. But, on the other hand, there's a world your mother doesn't know about. You're in a band, you wear crazy clothes, you cuss, you smoke, you drink and you have a sexual orientation that your mother doesn't endorse in her politics. But as long as the public don't know this, you're safe. Right?"

Samantha stares at me hard.

"How do you know all that?" She asks, her mouth a firm line.

"I was you. I did crazy things when I was your age to escape from my mother's reign. Hopefully, you don't go as far as me. Also, I'm straight, so I didn't have to worry about that whole deal. But yeah, I know you," I explain.

"Did Rachel tell you I was gay?" Samantha asks, worry in her eyes.

"No, but I can tell. I am a profiler after all," I respond.

"And you're not worried about having a lesbo hang out with your daughter?"

"Of course not. Why would I be? You do know that Rachel isn't my biological daughter right?"

"A lot of people aren't okay with it. I guess it's just my mother's people. But you're not? I thought you were her mom. She calls you mom," Samantha trails off.

"She'll tell you when she's ready," I say.

"Is it why she's scared to be alone with guys?" Samantha's voice lowers, and worry flies over her face.

"It's her story to tell. Now, do you want pizza in a few hours? Or Asian? Are you staying the night?"

"If I can, I will. My mom won't notice. And pizza sounds delish!" She says, sticking her tongue out and making a funny expression.

"Of course you can stay," I reply, making my own funny face.

"You guys are really weird," Rachel says as she walks out of her room, hair still soaked.

"You're gonna catch a cold if you don't dry your hair," I warn.

"Super Over Protective Mom to the rescue," she dryly says. Samantha laughs.

"Alright, alright, leave, get out of my kitchen," I tell them, shooing them out. They giggle and escape to Rachel's room.

I've never seen Rachel as happy as she is with Samantha. She's relaxed, carefree, not so closed off. I do worry about what they do. Samantha is gay, and Rachel is a girl, so they're probably making out or something.

I just hope they know boundaries. I may have to have a rather uncomfortable talk with Rachel tomorrow. Oh god. That's not going to end well.

…

Rachel's POV

"Are you okay?" Samantha asks, pausing her hand. I can't breathe. I shake my head. "Okay, okay, what do you need from me?" Samantha asks worriedly.

I try to steady my breathing, reminding myself this is Samantha, not my father.

"Hey, babe, are you okay? Do you need me to get Emily?"

Emily. Yes. I nod. Samantha scampers up and pulls her shirt back on before running out my door. I manage to straighten my shirt out before Emily walks in.

"Honey, what happened? Come here," she soothes, sitting on my bed. I cradle myself into her. Samantha watches with scared eyes in the corner.

"I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry Samantha," I choke out. My throat seems to be opening more now and I even out my breathing. "I'm so sorry." Emily strokes my hair, soothing me more. "I… I had a flashback," I try to explain. Then I realize Samantha doesn't know what that means.

"Rachel, it's okay. Don't worry, I'm not mad. You don't need to be sorry," Samantha tells me softly, coming close to me and picking up my hand. I see Emily nod at her, approving I suppose.

Emily loosens her grip on me and I manage to sit up by myself. There's only one thing on my mind.

"I… Give me a second," I say before rushing to the bathroom. I pull the door closed and take out my blade.

I calm down some. Thank God.

When I walk back into my room, Emily is sitting cross legged on my bed holding Samantha's hands as she sits across from her. Samantha's bright red hair is such a contrast from Emily's dark brown. It's beautiful seeing them together. I take a deep breath.

"Hey. Sorry." Emily turns to me, biting her lip.

"You might want to explain a few things, if you want," she suggests gently. I nod and sit beside her. "You want me to stay or go?"

"Stay, please," I tell her. She nods and wraps a protective arm around me.

"You don't have to tell me now," Samantha cautions me.

"No, I will," I say. I can't bring myself to look her in the eyes. "When I was eight, my father started molesting me, raping me, all that. Um, about a year and a half ago, Emily and the team caught him. He was kidnapping, raping and killing girls. A year after they got them, Emily came to see me in the hospital and took me home," I say very fast. Samantha's eyes fill with tears.

"Why… Why were you in the hospital?"

I pull up the sleeves of my shirt where my scars show white. The two worst ones almost shine in the light.

"Babe," she says softly before coming and almost tackling me with a hug. We knock into Emily who falls off the bed. I start laughing before I can help myself, and soon Samantha and Emily are too.

"Someone help me up," Emily complains. Samantha and I each grab an arm and pull her back up to the bed. "Alright guys, serious rule time. No fucking in my house. That's all I got. Now, I'm going to go call my boyfriend and listen to music and drink wine. Be good. I love you both," she says before leaving.

"Emily's really cool," Samantha comments.

"Yeah, she's really great."

"So, just so you know, what you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You're my best friend," Samantha says seriously.

"That's all?" I joke.

"Never," she retorts. We lean in for a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry we'll probably have to go so super slow," I tell her when we break apart.

"Babe, don't even worry about it."

We lay next to each other, holding hands and talking for awhile. Nothing too serious, but Samantha doesn't loosen her grip on me at all.

…

Life continued as normal from then on. Maybe Samantha hovers occasionally and she and Emily talk all the time which sort of puts me on edge.

The band was going strong, and we kept getting more gigs. We actually got paid for a few of them. This means I have money now. Not much, but enough. I've decided to save it up for something later. I don't know what yet, but something good will come along.

The after parties are good. I only do stupid shit on weekends when Emily is gone. It's the only time where I don't freak out when Samantha gets close.

I am getting better though. She goes slowly. She helps me breathe when I can't. She traces her fingers over scars and kisses my jaw.

Her mother is a fucking bitch, though. She reminds me of Emily's mom; completely focused on her career and public image, not her own fucking daughter and the problems she's having. Samantha tries to hide herself with clothes, weed, booze, and a fuck-you attitude.

I know she hates herself for being who she is. I can feel it. No one knows except me and Emily. Sometimes, when she's really fucked up, she does things that would blow her cover, except people just chalk it up to she's a hard partier.

She really isn't though, not compared to some people. A lot of kids at school are wealthy as hell and can afford a wide variety and a large quantity. I try to stay away from it. Most I've done is a few Xanax and other pills like that. Just stuff that makes you chill out.

Today was Friday, and I'm working. I got a job at a music store as a cashier. It's fun, easy work that requires little effort. I get off work in two hours. Then, I'm going home to sleep. Today was exhausting; an English test, a quiz in pre-cal and being yelled at by the vice principal for sleeping in the hallway.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates.

_Hey, I'm going to your house. Okay? Spending the night… _

Samantha. Of course she can come over. She usually doesn't ask anymore.

_Yeah, of course. Are you okay? Emily's there. _

She replies quickly: _I'll talk to you later. _

Now I am worried, but a customer walks in and asks about electric guitars for beginners and I get distracted.

…

Samantha's POV

Emily opens the door, a smile blooming on her face when she sees it's me. Then it disappears when she really looks at me.

"Samantha, what's wrong? Come in, come in," she says, ushering me inside. Her apartment smells like faded leather and lavender, as always.

"Sorry for coming over like this," I apologize trying to hide my face. "I can just go to Rachel's room if you're doing something?"

"Samantha, c'mon. You're going to sit on that sofa with me and spill. Got it?" I smile softly.

"Got it."

"I'm going to grab some drinks, but go get situated and ready," Emily says, heading to the kitchen. I grab a seat on the far end of the soft leather couch and before I know it, Em is back.

"Thank you," I say as she hands me a glass of water. She has a glass of wine and sets the bottle on the table in front of us.

"Tell me everything," she commands.

"I told my mom," I blurt out. Then I start crying again. Emily moves right beside me and starts rubbing my back soothingly.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, let it out," she quietly says. I bury my face in her shirt, trying to get a hold of myself.

"She hates me. She told me to get out of the house while she thinks it over. She told me to get over my stupid little phase. It's not a phase. I love Rachel. My mom acts like it's a choice; like I want to be a blemish in her political career. I don't," I rant, my breathing heavy and my words muffled by her shirt.

Emily continues to try and calm me down. "Honey, take a deep breath, c'mon, you'll be alright," she continues murmuring. I do as she says and do feel a little better.

"Is it alright if I stay with you guys for a few days?" I ask.

"Of course it is. Don't even worry about it."

"I ruined your shirt," I say, pulling back and looking at the wet spot on her pretty red tank top.

"No worries. It's an old one anyway. Now, I have news for you," Emily says, with the slightest hesitation in her voice.

"Yeah?"

"Tomorrow night, Derek and I are going to ask Rachel if it's okay if we move into a house together. Do you think she'll take it well?"

"Are you joking? She adores Derek. She'll be more excited than you. By the way, where is the man? I haven't seen him in a few days."

"He's in Chicago, visiting his family while we have a few days off. I'm glad you think Rachel will be good with it. I know she likes Derek, but she's still uncomfortable around guys and she's sometimes so unpredictable that I don't know what she'll do next," Emily explains, wringing her hands.

"I worry about that. What if she's only with me because she's scared of guys? Like, this isn't even real, it's just a defense for her?" I wonder out loud. Emily startles me when she grabs my hands, holding them tight to her.

"It's not. Besides me, Pen, and JJ, I've never seen Rachel open up to anyone. She really does care for you. I'm not sure if she's gay or bi, but I can tell how much you mean to her. Don't question that."

"Thank you, Em, for everything," I tell her. I mean it too. As soon as I started coming over here, Emily has treated me like her own daughter.

"Of course Samantha, now, let's do something not so emotional."

"Like what?"

"Drink?" Emily asks with a laugh. I nod and smile and she gets a wine glass for me and pours some.

"Thank you," I say with a happy lilt to my voice.

"Don't tell your mother," Emily jokes. I grin widely and we lean back against the sofa and turn on mindless TV.

…

Rachel POV

I go inside, expecting some sort of happening to be going on. Instead, complete silence. It freaks me out. I tiptoe into the living room and see possibly the cutest thing in the world.

They had pushed the table back and spread out blankets on the floor. Emily was lying on her back, her tee shirt pushed up a little and one arm on her stomach, the other around Samantha. Samantha had her back to Emily and was curled in a ball, hair all over the place.

There's an empty wine bottle and two glasses sitting beside them.

I take out my phone and take pictures. It's sort of incriminating, but also adorable.

Then, I get my pillow from my room and lay down beside them. Samantha unconsciously shifts and lets me fall easily into her. And I sleep.

**So, yeah. Let me know what you think… If you have any ideas for the future please tell me.  
Also, my schedule at school right now is VERY hard, so time for this might get limited. **


	9. Chapter 9

"So you guys are buying a house. And I will live there. With both of you," I say slowly.

"Yes. Only if you're okay with it," Derek responds.

"Well duh I'm okay with it. Jesus, it took you guys long enough. So when will this be happening?" I say with an easy smile. I can feel the relief come off them.

"We've started looking at some houses already. There are two we have in mind. We want you to come and look at both and add your opinion. Also, unfortunately, my mother is coming to look at them too. I'm warning you so you'll be prepared," Emily tells me.

"Oh God. Okay. I think I can handle her now. What about your mom?" I ask Derek.

"My mama's going to come visit as soon as we get the new house going. She's so excited to meet you. Don't be alarmed if she tries to kidnap you and obsessively calls you her granddaughter or buys you tons of things you do not need," he warns with a smile.

"She sounds awesome," I say excitedly.

"That's because she is," Derek replies.

"You're such a mama's boy," Emily teases, gently punching his shoulder. "Don't forget about me."

"I could never forget about you," Derek says, smiling and they lean in to kiss.

"We're still at the dinner table," I remind them, smiling as I do so. They are too damn cute. They continue to kiss, but when I make an "ew" joke sound, Emily flicks me off before they break apart.

"So we're good with the house thing? We can go look at them tomorrow if you want," Emily asks.

"Yeah, sounds good. Can Samantha come?" Samantha was currently at Danny's house, buying weed and giving me family time.

"Of course. Now, what do you think she'll do about her mom? How long do you think she'll be with us?" Emily asks.

"Um, I don't know. She said she was going to call her mom tomorrow if she doesn't call her today, and I guess they'll know things from that point on. It's okay, right, that she's here for a little while?" I ask worriedly.

"Of course. I love Samantha. I just want her to be happy and have a good relationship with her mom. I wish that I did and I hope they don't break theirs apart so early," Emily responds, a kind of far away sadness in her voice.

"I don't even have a biological mother to hate and I love my adoptive mother, so, I'm out of the loop," I respond. Emily looks up and gives me a sort of smile.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your biological mother?" Derek asks.

"My dad said she overdosed on heroin when I was a baby. I got some damn good genes, huh? Junkie mother and serial killer dad just are a great combo," I joke. Emily and Derek exchange glances.

"Well, you're obviously not a psychopathic killer and as long as you don't do hard drugs, you won't get hooked. Susceptibility to addiction is genetic. But other than that, you're good," Emily says, smoothing it over.

"What would you do if I said I wanted to see mi padre in jail?" Now both Emily and Derek's eyes go very, very wide.

"Um, I would let you go. But, I would be there with you the whole time. Do you really want to go?" Emily asks, her voice a little strained.

"I don't know. It would be interesting from a studies point of view, you know? How he interacts with me and tells me. I fucking hate him and wish he was dead, but he is sort of an interesting specimen."

"You sound like Rossi," Derek sighs.

"Has he said something like that?"

"Yes. He was wondering about putting me in there, then you, then himself and seeing how your father reacts with different people. I told him no way," Emily explains, staring intently at me.

"I don't know yet. I was just thinking out loud," I reply honestly.

"This is why she's called Rossi's apprentice," Derek says with a laugh and shake of his head.

"I know. She's going to be a better profiler than all of us by the time she graduates high school," Emily agrees.

"You bet your asses I am," I joke back. "Now, though, I am going to go take a shower and do homework."

I stand and leave the table, smiling at the thought of looking at houses tomorrow.

….

"Fuck off Rache. I don't need you!" Samantha screams in the middle of the room. She was shitfaced beyond belief. Everyone looks at her. Then shake their head and go back to dancing. Sleigh Bells was playing and everyone was raving.

"Have fun getting fucked up without anyone to look after you tonight," I lean in and whisper in her ear before reaching into her pocket and grabbing the bag of three pre-rolled joints. "And these are now mine," I tell her.

Immediately, I go up to Danny and grab his hips and start dancing with him. He opens his mouth to show me a pill. I lean in and take it. I know Samantha is watching. What I didn't know was that she was as pissed as she was.

"Ouch," I exclaim when she grabs my arm and pulls me away. "What was that for?"

"Goddamn it Rachel! I love you. Why the fuck can't you get that?" The pill was hitting and I was feeling loose and her words made me laugh.

"Why the fuck can't I get that, Samantha? Probably because no one should love me. Look at us; I can't fuck you, I can't deal with anything personal. I don't know why you're with me. Go settle down with a nice girl. I'm not exactly relationship material," I tell her, words spilling from my mouth in a stream.

Her eyes have tears in the corners when I look back at her.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I say, backpedalling, "Come on, let's go back to my house and talk. Please," I beg.

"I'm taking you home. That pill was not good for you."

"You're drunk."

"Let's get a cab," she sighs. I nod and take her hand.

…

"What the fuck?" Emily asks as we stumble through the door.

"We had a fight," I offer.

"What did you guys do?"

"I tried to dance with her," Samantha explains.

"So?"

"She doesn't like public displays of affection. Also, she hates herself," Samantha slurs again. Emily rubs her eyes tiredly.

"What are you guys on?"

"I, am just drunk off my ass," Samantha answers. "Your daughter here took a pill. OUT OF A BOYS MOUTH. She be trippin'."

"Fuck you Sam," I say.

"Don't call me Sam. You know I hate that." I glare at her. She glares back. Emily steps in.

"Alright guys. Time to go to bed. I will murder both of you in the morning. For fuck's sake, guys. Stop dicking around. Rache, you're in my room. Samantha, go sleep off your obnoxious anger," Emily says, pinching her nose.

"I'm sorry Em," I say while she leads me to her room.

"You're grounded. For two months. I don't know what the fuck you were doing but it needs to stop. You're fifteen for Christ's sake."

"You were fifteen when you got prego," I point out. Then I realize what an asshole I am. "Oh God, Em, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"Well you did. Come on, I'll give you some shorts and shirt to sleep in. Strip."

"Aggressive," I joke, then see her face. "I'm such a fuckwad. Sorry." I take off my clothes and wait for clothes.

She traces a scar on my back, made from my father slamming me into the corner of a counter. It wasn't too deep, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. I remember him telling me to stand up and grow a pair.

Then Emily traces one on my arm, one I made myself.

"Don't hurt yourself. Don't become addicted. Don't become your mother."

"You're my mom. I don't care about who technically is. She doesn't matter."

"She gave you the susceptibility of addiction. You already are addicted to cutting. Let's not add on, okay?"Her voice was hard, and tired.

I nod my head and pull on the clothes offered.

"Alright, get some sleep. I'm going to go call Derek. Goodnight," she says, her voice softening.

"I love you. And I'm sorry for being a fuck up."

"Sweetie, you're not a fuck up. You're just having a hard time. We'll get through it. I love you too."

…

"Please tell me I didn't say that," I mumble under my breath, swinging my legs out from under the sheets.

"You did. Now, get dressed please, and look really nice because the ambassador will be here this time," Emily said, startling me.

"Oh damn. Alright, house time. Mom, I'm so sorry. It's like… I don't know," I start. She cuts me off though.

"We'll discuss it later. Please get dressed though," Emily says again, a bit harsher this time, but there's anxiety behind it. Her mother always stresses her out.

I pull on a nice top and good jeans and cute flats before running a hand through my short hair and rushing down the stairs.

Derek and Emily both looked very nice though both had grimaces on their faces.

"Where's Sam," I ask.

"Asleep," Emily answers, opening the door for us.


End file.
